


Beautiful Scars

by brokenpromisesandhope



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Fluff and Angst, Language, M/M, Self-Harm, life - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10056443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenpromisesandhope/pseuds/brokenpromisesandhope
Summary: Derek Hale works at a tattoo shop and one day Stiles Stilinski shows up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends,  
> I hope you enjoy this! The self harm warning is that derek tattoos over self harm scars.  
> Beta'd by @juniorwoofles 
> 
> Xx  
> T

Derek has only been tattooing back in Beacon Hills for about two months when the girl comes in. Erica and Boyd are on a lunch break and Derek's the only one in a shop. It's a Tuesday at one in the afternoon so it's not like it's busy and he's sitting behind the counter playing on his phone when she walks in.

She's got long black hair and she's wearing eyeliner that would make Laura cry and a long sleeve black shirt despite the fact they're in California.  
"Hello," he says standing up.  
"Hi, um, I want a tattoo."  
Derek raises an eyebrow because she barely looks fifteen. "Do you have an ID?"  
She nods and pulls a wallet out of her pocket, handing it to him, "Here."

Derek nods and hands it back to her. "Happy birthday."  
"Thank you."  
"So what are you thinking?"  
"I, um, want some lyrics. I want 'Don't lose your fight kid'. I was going to try to find a font I liked but I couldn't find one."  
"That's fine. I can write it out no problem."

Derek comes from behind the counter with a pen and a pad of paper. "Where do you want it?"  
"Um, on my arm."  
Derek raises an eyebrow again, surprised by her hesitation. "Okay, I'm going to need you to show me."

The girl bites her lip and drops her gaze, pulling her sleeve up slightly. Her wrist is covered in mostly healed scars. They're thin and will be fine to tattoo over, but Derek tries to hide his surprise. The girl shifts her weight anxiously. "They're not that deep and um, I read online that if they're not too deep they can be tattooed over, is that not true?" She sounds terrified.

"No, I'm sorry, I can do it." He shakes his head and places her arm on the counter. He rolls her sleeve up the rest of the way, flinching when he sees the scars get deeper and more fresh. He can tell it takes a lot of strength for her to not pull away. He tries to control himself and not react in any way, "What kind of font do you want?"

"Something really crisp and nice, I was thinking cursive but it doesn't have to be."  
Derek nods. "I'll write a few choices for you."  
It's quiet and Derek starts writing out a few fonts for her. "Oh, hey," he grabs a clipboard from behind the desk and hands it to her, "Fill this out please."

She pulls her sleeve down and fills out the paperwork. When Derek is done, he gives her his write ups and she picks one. He brings her to the back and has her sit down as he readies his supplies,  
"So what's your name?"  
"Maggie."  
"Nice to meet you Maggie, my name is Derek."  
"Nice to meet you too."  
"Question for you?"  
"Sure."  
"Do you want something over the worse scars?"  
Maggie's face turns red. "I, I thought they'd be too deep. And, um, I can't afford it." She says quietly, shrugging her sweatshirt off.  
"If you want to get something under the lyrics, that's fine."  
"You can tattoo over it?"  
Derek takes a gloved hand and rubs it over some of the scars on her arm. "They're not deep enough to not be able to be tattooed over. They might fade slightly easier than a normal tattoo, but it should be fine."

Maggie nods. "Okay. I'll have to save up for it but good to know."  
"I'll do it for free." Derek says, pouring some ink into a plastic tub.  
"What?"  
"To cover, you know, it's free."

She decides she wants a rose underneath the lyrics and it looks pretty good if he does say so himself. He wraps it, gives her a tiny thing of lotion and aftercare instructions. Maggie pays and before Derek can understand what's happening, the girl is throwing her arms around him, voice watery. "Thank you so much."  
"You're welcome." He says, patting her back.

It becomes his thing, more or less. It's not like they come in often, but he always remembers when they do. He does so many other tattoos that it's not like he misses out on money or anything, not that he cares about the money when it's for that.

It's about six months later when a skittish boy comes in. He's taller than Derek and he has curly blonde hair. He hesitates at the door and visibly flinches back when Erica tries to talk to him. Derek steps up then, walking up to him and asking him quietly what he wants.  
"I want, a dragon tattoo, on my thigh." He says quietly.  
"Okay, sounds good. Do you have a picture?"

The kid pulls out his phone and shows Derek.  
"Okay, nice. Can I email it to our computer so I can print it off?"  
The kid nods and hands the phone over.  
"I'm Derek by the way."  
"I'm Isaac."  
"Nice to meet you. I'm gonna go print this and then we can go to the back and I can size it."

When Derek leads Isaac to the back, he removes his pants and sits on the table, boxers only coming to the top of his thighs. The thighs are covered in burn marks. They look to be from a pipe and Derek purses his lips as Isaac stares at him with wide green eyes.  
"Alright. I'm assuming we're covering this?"  
"Um, yeah. As much as you can. I have about $200. I know it's pretty detailed and I want color so I guess I just want it as big as that much gives me."

"Don't worry about it, just tell me how big you want it." Derek says, "Like from where to where?"  
"Well, preferably from here to here," he points out where he'd like the tattoo, "but you tell me how big I can get it."  
"Isaac, I already said don't worry about it." Derek walks back to the computer to resize the design.  
"I don't understand," Isaac says quietly.  
"It's free, Isaac. Now hush and let me resize this so I can get it right." He smiles at Isaac and Isaac just stares at him, eyes wide. 

It takes three sessions, two for outlining, one for the coloring and detailing. 

After his last session, Isaac hands him a $50 bill and Derek stares, "I said it's free."  
"This is a tip. For you."  
Derek shakes his head. "I can't."  
"Derek, take this right now."  
Derek smiles and claps Isaac on the shoulder. "Have a good day."  
"You too, Derek."

 

People that Derek knows come into the shop all the time. Perks of living in a small town, or drawbacks perhaps. He and Erica are playing cards when Stiles Stilinski walks in. He was a year younger than Derek with a perfect life. His Dad was the Sheriff, and eventually ran for mayor. They were rich and lived in a tiny house in the middle of town. Stiles was one of those effortlessly cute boys who could flirt and charm and wink and he can't remember a time there wasn't a girl on his arm.

He looks different, even though it's only been three years. His hair's overgrown and greasy and he's wearing a plaid shirt that looks like it's having trouble staying on his thin shoulders. He's got a messy, sparse beard and his eyes are dull.  
"Can I get a tattoo?" He asks, staring down at the counter, Derek subtly waved off Erica's concerned looks.  
"Yeah, of course. What are we thinking?"

Stiles sighs, finally looking up but he starts back when he sees Derek. "Shit, I didn't know."  
"Are you okay?"  
Stiles swallows hard, "I just got back to town and, I haven't seen anyone in a long time, let alone someone I used to," he trails off, itching at his chapped lips.  
"Used to what?" Derek asks.  
"Used to have a crush on. This is awkward."  
Derek stares at him, mouth wide.

Stiles bites his lip awkwardly and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a folded up piece of paper, on it is a signature, along with a date.  
"I want this with a cluster of flowers around it, preferably colored daisies and I'd like the flowers to continue on my other arm as well. I was thinking like the signature and date then flowers surrounding it but one clearly at the top, one at the bottom then a line of three bigger ones down my arm. Does that sound dumb?"

"Not at all," Derek replies, "Just let me see what space I'm working with and then I can draw something up."  
Stiles bites his lip and shrugs off his shirt, leaving him in a white muscle tank, and yeah, he's way too skinny. He holds up both his forearms for examination and Derek tries to not to look surprised at the two vertical scars running down each wrist.

Stiles starts mumbling before he can even say anything, "I know they're kind of deep but it says you guys are good online and I know it might fade but I really want it and I'll pay whatever, I just, please."  
Derek swallows hard. "Let me just draw something up. Erica will get you the paperwork."

It takes Derek about twenty minutes to draw something up, and when he gets back, Stiles is just sitting in a chair, fiddling with his fingers.  
"I'm done," Derek says, showing him the two sheets of paper. "If you want something to change let me know and I'll fix it, this is going to be on you forever."  
Stiles rolls his eyes, "That's kinda the point. What colors do you have?" He asks, walking up to the counter.  
"Everything, just let me know. We probably won't get to the coloring this session. This shouldn't be too difficult, but if you want it to cover the entirety of the scar, with shading and color, you're looking at at least two sessions. I can go for almost five hours at a time, with breaks you know, but it's all about your comfort.”  
“I want it done as soon as possible, but that sounds good.”

"Oh wow, this looks wonderful, especially how you blend the flowers. For the circle I'm thinking I'd like yellow, purple and blue. The top flower I'd like yellow, then bottom pink, then on the other arm I'd like blue, pink, blue."  
"Sounds good to me, I think it'll look really nice, however since your skin has lots of pink undertones I would probably go with a brighter fuchsia than a pale pink, especially since we're dealing with the pinkness of your scar."  
Stiles nods, "Okay, that's fine."  
"And I can do the outline and then let you look at the color selection."  
"Okay."  
"I'll let you look while I get set up." Derek leads Stiles back to his area and sets him up by the colors, going back to cleaning his area and prepping himself. He's okay to sit in the silence but it isn't long until Stiles starts talking. Just useless little things until Derek clears his throat and tells him he's ready.

Stiles sinks into his chair and Derek sets up his arm on a little board. "We'll do all the outlining first, on both arms and then I will color it. It'll probably take about an hour to outline each arm, but if you need a break at anytime just let me know, okay?"  
"Okay?" Stiles says, a bit nervously.  
"Are you nervous?"  
Stiles snorts as Derek pulls on plastic gloves and grabs the drawing of the tattoo and a squirt bottle.  
"Is that dumb? I slit my wrists open but I'm scared of getting a tattoo." He says bluntly, watching Derek press the outline to his skin and spray it with the water bottle so the ink transfers.  
"It's not dumb. It shouldn't hurt too bad though. If it does, we can always stop."

"Shit, I didn't even ask how much it costs. I'm doing this all backwards,"  
"Relax," Derek says, "it’s on the house," as he soothes Vaseline over Stiles’ skin.  
"What? I don't want your pity."  
"It's not pity." Derek says, picking up the gun and dipping it in the ink. He starts the gun up and Stiles looks like he wants to argue, but he's now staring at the gun with wide eyes.  
"Hey," Derek says softly, "Look at me."  
Stiles looks up at him, brown eyes looking a bit wet.

Stiles let's out a gasp when the needle pierces his skin, but otherwise doesn't make any noise, he's still staring at Derek,  
"Are you doing okay?" He asks.  
Stiles nods, eyes never leaving his.

Derek's almost halfway done with the outline of Stiles' left arm when Stiles speaks, "You're probably wondering what happened."  
"It's none of my business," Derek replies.  
"I just got out of the nuthouse."  
Derek looks up at that, hoping he gives an encouraging look.  
"My Mom got sick my junior year, right after you graduated. Stage three ovarian cancer and there was nothing they could do. Nobody knew how to react to me, to comfort me. My dad threw himself into his work, leaving me alone with her. But I couldn't watch. I couldn't just watch her fade away.

"When she finally died, I hadn't seen her in almost a week. I felt awful. My dad, he sure let me know I was a mistake too. Telling me she gave her life for mine, and how dare I act that way? How a doctor told her a long time ago she couldn't have kids, but how she wanted to try for me, and I couldn't even be there for her. Oh he was a mean drunk. And when he wasn't campaigning, he was drunk."

"So the night after the funeral, I went to a party. I was still in the in circle at that point. I went alone. And I just got fucked up. I got drunk, I did like four lines of coke. I went on like a three day bender. I remember doing crack. I can't remember if I did heroin. I was just crazy. And my friend, Scott, you remember Scott McCall, he found me passed out behind the wheel like three blocks from my house. And my dad got pissed because I was ruining his career and he sent me away."

Stiles swallows hard and it's silent for a few moments except for the tattoo gun. "The rehab place was horrible. I wasn't a drug addict I just made some shitty decisions. But these were people who'd sold their fucking kids for crack, Ecstasy, a pack of cigarettes, anything. It was awful. I was there for like a year and never heard anything meaningful or loving from my dad. He would send me letters saying I could still go to college and stuff, that I had early acceptance letters coming in but that was it. The things he could do that would promote his image.

"Then he won mayor though. And when I was eighteen the program kicked me out, but he sent me to a grief counseling group with a live in component. That was even worse. I wasn’t just in with the horror stories I was also in with the not so serious stories that somehow made it hard for others to get out of bed. It became too much. No one visited me, no one wrote me. I was being force fed pills I didn't need. It got too much. I just slit my wrists. In the cafeteria. Not the smartest decision because we were supervised but I just wanted everything to stop.

"You know my father didn't visit me once. Not one single time, in almost three years. I went to therapy. Actually talked about it. I got on medication that helps me get through the day and doesn't make me wanna sleep all day. So they let me out. Yesterday, in fact. It's weird. You wanna know the first thing I did?"  
"What?"  
"Went to McDonalds."  
"No!"  
"Yes. It was so good. I ate so much I threw up."  
"Maybe it wasn't from how much you ate," Derek teases.

Stiles laughs and flips him off with the hand that's not being tattooed. Derek laughs.  
"I'm sorry," he says, rubbing more Vaseline over Stiles' arm.  
"Me too. But I don't want your pity. I'm back. I'm doing normal things that twenty year olds do, right?"  
Derek smiles, "Right."  
"What else should I do? What else has been going on?"  
"I don't know! I've been in my own little world, same as always."  
"Well then what's going on in Derek's world? You got hotter, if that's even possible."

Derek blushes, "Thank you. Um, I love working here. My best friend, Boyd, you remember him? His cousin owns the place but we run it and it's great. Erica, that girl out there, that's his fiancée. My parents got divorced, Laura's getting married next year, Cora, well she's Cora. She's in the peace corps currently. I'm single. I live on the edge of town, I have a cat. I'm boring."  
Stiles smiles, "I like it. So, no girlfriend?"  
"No girlfriend, or boyfriend," Derek adds quietly.

Stiles looks shocked, "I really liked you in high school," he blurts, "but I never thought- you were out of my league."  
"Oh please! Everyone was your league. The school was your playing field."  
Stiles sighs, "Those were the days."  
Derek rolls his eyes, "So, no little flings going on?"  
"Dude, I've been locked up for 3 years. The only fling I've got going on is with my left hand. And goddamn am I ready to break that up."  
Derek laughs, "I dunno, it looks kind of nice to me."  
Stiles raises an eyebrow, "Did Derek Hale just flirt with me?"

Derek blushes, soothing Vaseline over Stiles' arms, "You're all done."  
Stiles looks down at his red, bleeding, but beautifully tattooed arms, "Oh wow. Thank you so much Derek. Thank you."  
"No problem. I'm just gonna wrap them up and you can be on your way. We can set up a time for you to come in and get them colored in like a week or so?”  
"Eager to get rid of me are we?"  
"Pretty much," Derek teases, wrapping up Stiles' wrists.  
"Derek?"  
"Yes?"  
"Not to be presumptuous, but, could I maybe see you again after the next session? It doesn't have to be like a date or anything, seeing as I'm sure I don't bring a lot to the table right now but, this was fun."

Derek smiles, "Of course. You could come over for dinner if you want, I know you haven't had a home cooked meal in forever."  
"That sounds wonderful."  
"What's your favorite?"  
Stiles beams, "Whatever you want to cook me."  
"Perfect." Derek hands him an aftercare sheet, "And Stiles?"  
"Yeah?"  
Derek smiles, "It’s a date."


End file.
